In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, “Is it good, friend?”
“It is bitter—bitter,” he answered;

“But I like it
“Because it is bitter,
“And because it is my heart.”

(("Loverboy" Vinnie Lane walks. The desert sun of Tucson, Arizona beats down on his head, wave after wave, hot to the point that he can't even sweat - the moisture boils and evaporates from his skin the moment it leaves his pores. For miles he has walked, from the hotel downtown and now to Rincon Cemetery, an old graveyard just outside of Tucson. The crosses are bent and crooked, headstones sunk into the sand dating back to the early 1900s. Loverboy's footsteps drag in the baking sand, but he continues on. Past the nameless tombstones, past the last blades of grass before the world gives way to seemingly unending desert. Loverboy trods with hanging head and burning brow, into the hazy and disorienting swells of orange yellow death. Loverboy walks into the sun. His lips move in words that can only be interpreted as prayer.))

Loverboy: Azrael Erebus... I am coming to the desert to banish you... the serpent cast down from the cosmos and into the depths of my mind... this is my temptation... you will not take me...

((Loverboy stumbles. He falls to his knees in a cloud of sand and dust, and rolls onto his back, staring into the sun. His eyes are distant with minuscule pupils. The oppressive orange sun reflects in the depths within his blue irises as tears attempt to roll down his rubicund face, carving tributaries into the dirt upon his skin before dying under the will of the desert heat, vaporizing into the air before ever touching the arid ground. His arms and legs swing slowly outward and back, carving images in the sand. An angel.))

Loverboy: I am on my way to Gethsemane... my garden awaits me on the other side of the serpent's coils... I will climb into the maw of hell and descend the nine levels until I stand on the belly of the demon himself... the angel or mercy will carve my sins onto my forehead and I will climb to the summit of purgatory to wash them away... shadows of my blood cleaned in the waters of baptismal euphoria... it all starts with you, Azrael Erebus... you defiled my temple... you raped me with your spirit... you hung the sign above the door... "abandon all hope, ye who enter here."


((Crawling now, Loverboy moves slowly on his hands and knees around him, gathering stones and placing them into a circle. The stones sit in cardinal directions, and in the halfway spaces between. To connect them, Loverboy produces a bag from his pocket, filled with salt. Slowly, he pours the granules into his hand and then through his fingers it falls in arcs between the red rocks, completing a perfect circle around his carven image in the ground. Loverboy crosses his legs underneath him and sits, staring into the sky.))

Loverboy: You have no more power over me Azrael Erebus... I have sweat you out of my pores... I have bled you from my veins... My eyes are dry now from the tears you tried to force me to cry... I have... forsaken... you...

((A sudden plume of crimson flame grows from the earth just beyond the circle, directly in front of Loverboy's gaze. Quickly extinguishing, the flame molds instantly to the form of a handsome man in a custom fit, expensive suit. The purple flames in his eyes blink momentarily as he adjusts his crimson necktie.))

Hello Loverboy.

Loverboy: You have nothing left over me, Azrael. You're not really here. You're nothing but a fracture in my own mind.

If that's what you need to believe. Why not come out here and talk to me like a man?

Loverboy: This is symbolic. This circle. I'm dispelling you and whatever lingering fingers you have in my brain. The circle represents me, and you will stay on the outside. I won't join you outside of my own sanity.

You are lying to yourself, Loverboy. I am, and always have been, deep inside you. A pile of rocks won't save you. Invite me in and see.

Loverboy: An invitation will open the circle. An invitation would nullify the border between true and false, sane and psychotic. You tempt me and I'll resist, but can you do the same?

((The figure of Azrael moves in anger, rushing close to the circle of stones, his face right in front of Loverboy's as he steps forward to meet him. The two profiles of the men are mere centimeters apart, divided equally above the salt and sand.))

You think you are strong enough to fight me, Loverboy? You think some last minute pilgrimage into the desert will fix your narrow mind? You're a fool. A fool and a weakling.

Loverboy: I'm not weak, Azrael. And I'm not afraid of you. Not anymore. You crawled into my mind like a worm into a carcass, tearing at the meat of my psyche like a buzzard - but I cast you out. Whatever you are. Demon, dragon, devil, alien... you are powerless over me. You're the slave now. You're the weakling. You are the victim.

((Azrael's eyes glow like a thousand suns and his frame doubles, then triples in size. Tendrils of smoke spin like silk from his nostrils as they flare and contract like thirsty mouths. He looms above Loverboy, staring down on him with a visage of hatred and anger. The image of Azrael spreads his arms to his sides as dragon's wings rip from his back and spread across the sky, blocking out the sun and enfolding them both in darkness. His voice thunders like a sonic boom.))

You are an insect to me, Loverboy! You are an infinitesimal speck on my tongue that I will spit into the dirt! You are nothing at all!

((Azrael's mouth tears open, showing rows and rows of teeth, and a pair of forked tongues. Opening his lengthening snout wide, a cloud of white hot flame erupts from deep within his throat, rushing forth and raining down towards Loverboy. But, just as the lapping flames reach the perimeter of Loverboy's circle, they dissipate into steam and mist. Loverboy stands, smiling, never having flinched before the awesome display.))

Loverboy: I told you, Azrael. You're finished. You're nothing.

((With an ear splitting scream, Azrael descends upon the circle and Loverboy, talons, wings and teeth. Again, at the moment of contact with the circumference of the circle, the entirety of Azrael, the primordial dragon, vanishes. Only a vague purplish haze lingers, which is soon swept away by some unseen breeze. Loverboy's smile widens across his face again as he watches the purple fog disappear.))

Loverboy: We mounted up, the first and I the second,
Till I beheld through a round aperture
Some of the beauteous things that Heaven doth bear;


Thence we came forth to rebehold the stars.

(("Loverboy" Vinnie Lane breaks from his circle, walking as a man with a cool breeze behind him.))